


Five Times Josh Helps Out, and the Time Tyler Returned the Favor

by marsakat



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: 5 Things, 5+1 Things, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bathroom Sex, Blow Jobs, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sickfic, happy half birthday Josh, it's pretty much just a hurt/comfort extravaganza
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 17:36:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8904763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marsakat/pseuds/marsakat
Summary: Tyler is one of those people that needs a little extra guidance and help, thankfully Josh is generous.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this goes out to grace

  1. **Laundry**



Tyler sounded shifty and nervous when Josh picked up the phone call, his greeting overly cheery and trailed off to awkward silence.

"Uh, heyyy," Tyler said suspiciously, and Josh cocked his head in confusion, aware that Tyler couldn't see him on the other end.

"What's up, my man?"

"Oh, uh...nothing. Just...hanging out. Alone," Tyler said pointedly.

"You wanna, like, hang out alone together?" Josh hunted for what Tyler was building up to.

"No. I mean yeah, of course. It's just—I, uh, need help with something and...and you're the nicest person I know so you won’t laugh at me," Tyler said in a rush, "So like you gonna come over and help me?"

"With what?" Josh asked cautiously, wanting to know what exactly he'd be getting into before he signed up. Before he'd been tricked into cleaning someone else's garage out and he didn't want a repeat. Josh had memorably disturbed a spider's nest and that was a horrifying experience enough to give him nightmares regularly.

"No manual labor, I promise," Tyler's voice sped up, fully planning to end the conversation before Josh could say no, "I'll buy you dinner. See you in fifteen." And he hung up.

Josh sighed, resigned, and changed into clothes he didn't care getting wet, painted, greased, burnt, or otherwise ruined.

"Promise me you won't laugh or tell anyone else?" Tyler demanded as Josh crossed the threshold of the rental home. The driveway had been devoid of the other roommates' cars, so Tyler wasn’t lying when he said no one else was home.

"I can't promise the first, but I'll keep your deep, dark secret," Josh offered a pinky that Tyler linked his own with, "Mind telling me what you need me to do?" Josh was struck by how very much like a crappy porno this was sounding like, mind leaping to imagine Tyler stating dramatically his dick needed to be examined, and Josh shook his head to clear the weird thoughts he was trying to avoid.

"Um, so I got into a little...argument with my mom. Basically she said I should--uh. She said I'm too old—ugh, how do I explain?" Tyler scuffed his shoes against the kitchen linoleum and Josh waited patiently, "Sorry, okay, look—I need help doing my laundry."

"Uh, what?" Josh didn't expect that, "Dude you're...twenty-two. How do you not know how to do your laundry?"

"Look, man. My mom always makes it really easy for me. We've had this set up for two decades—"

"You don't even live in her house anymore!" Josh exclaimed, suddenly realizing.

"I know! I just...go over every few weeks when I run out of clothes. But she just told me that I have to learn how to do it and she refused. And now they're out of town so I can't even ask for her to show me!" Tyler whined, "Please help me. You're a responsible adult and anyone else would make fun of me. Help. Me."

Tyler looked so adorably helpless, how could Josh say no? He listened intently to the explanation of the different settings, and helped Josh to sort his clothes—though Josh flat-out refused to touch his underwear.

"Nah, man. I'm not putting my hands anywhere near those," Josh tossed a sock into the washer.

"Oh baby, you know you wanna," Tyler wiggled his eyebrows and dangled the garment close to Josh's face.

He dodged and shot back, "Maybe if you were still wearing them."

They both turned red and changed the subject quickly.

Tyler was a quick learner, though Josh figured most of his lecture on proper wash temperatures would quickly be forgotten.  He concluded Tyler would likely just throw everything in together and call it a day, reinforced once they moved from this “best friends” phase to “bandmates”.  And only once did Tyler ever call Josh in a panic because he somehow managed to floor the basement with suds.  They were never able to figure out how.

From time to time, if he was feeling overly sentimental, or Tyler looked extra pathetic in an outfit he’d worn for the third day in a row, Josh would take pity on him.  Without permission, because Tyler would always make excuses and insist he’d ‘get to it tomorrow’, Josh would steal his bag of dirty clothes (“Briefly worn,” Tyler would claim) and take it to the nearest coin-operated laundromat.

Josh didn’t mind—he liked the comforting heat of the dryers and smells of clean clothing.  It was soothing to have such a mundane task, universal in whatever corner of the globe they were.  It was the least he could do for Tyler, who was often preoccupied with other, more important concerns.  Josh just wanted to lessen the burden on his friend, who’d gush with happiness at the delivery of warm, clean clothes. 

If anyone questioned him, he’d just shrug, silently knowing he was there to take care of Tyler in what little ways only he could.  Whether it be reminders to clean, laugh, eat, or be _that_ person, _that_ backbone and support onstage; Josh would do it.

  1. **Distraction**



Tyler was the type of person to be completely swept away by an idea.  He’d tug his hair and gnash his teeth if a melody escaped him before he could write it down.  The words in his head would threaten to dissolve, and _what could have been_ would drive him insane with hunting its return.  Josh didn’t like when Tyler got like that, when he became quietly angry and withdrawn trying to bring back what had been lost.

So Josh eased the burden of distraction from Tyler, letting him work and write and tap endlessly on his keyboard.  Josh would slip food into his hands, leave water or something besides Red Bull close by.  He’d give Tyler space when he needed it, listening for loud, annoyed sighs that indicated Tyler needed a break.

Tyler couldn’t take care of himself when he became so absorbed in new music, and Josh was there from the get-go in vans and in Tyler’s basement to when they were able to set the back lounge up as a mobile recording studio (sans a full drumkit).  The locations changed frequently, equipment grew more and more expensive, but the creator was still the same.  Incorrigible, stubborn, engrossed, and vaguely helpless; Tyler was practically a baby when it came down to it.

“Josh, my neck hurts,” Tyler whined after five hours straight of sitting in the back lounge, the five hours was purely just Josh’s estimate.  Tyler had been there since Josh had woke up so there was no way of knowing if Tyler just hadn’t gone to sleep last night.

Tyler flung his arms to the side and stretched, rolling his neck with groans of pain and a yelp as a dull popping noise came from his tendons.

“Dude, this is what happens when you, like, don’t move,” Josh nudged Tyler’s side with his toes.  The lounge was tiny and Josh could easily stretch his leg to reach all the way from the leather couch where he was sitting and scrolling through Twitter waiting for Tyler to need him.

Tyler continued to grunt, and Josh sighed, “Bro, do you need me to rub your neck?”

“Oh man, that’d be awesome,” Tyler moaned appreciatively as Josh’s fingers found the knots and kinks in his muscles.  Josh didn’t think his massages were anything special but Tyler’s hardened edges seemed to melt under his hands.

Josh didn’t know what was considered to be an acceptable amount of time for a massage, so he kept going and Tyler didn’t protest, humming happily.

The door to the lounge opened with a pneumatic hiss, and Mark looked between the two of them.  “Somehow that’s not the weirdest thing I’ve seen you two doing,” he remarked casually, “We’re getting food now if you lovebirds want to join planet Earth.”

With anyone else, they would have leapt apart and pretend like nothing happened, but between the two of them, it was never like that.  You can’t deny chemistry or comfort of someone beyond best friend.  And Josh didn’t know what exactly Tyler needed, but the fact that he cared enough to try made all the difference

  1. **Life Preserver**



When Tyler got in _one of his moods_ , as his mother would say, with a wave of hands and a casual tone, it was just like when a song idea absorbs him and he forgets how to take care of himself.  Josh quickly learned that it was, contrary to what the nonchalant explanation made it seemed, much worse than anything music could do to Tyler.  In fact, music was one of the only things keeping Tyler’s melancholy at bay.

They were a few years into their friendship-partnership-relationship before Josh got to see a full-blown depressive period.  Tyler would have ‘moments’ that were scary to see how quickly he’d close off from the rest of the world.  Nothing anyone could say would be able to pull him from whatever skirmish was happening in his mind, behind those brown eyes weighed down by the world.

But those times were brief compared to over a week straight of this—coinciding with a break between tours.  Josh suspected that the quiet and the lack of screaming crowds let whatever in his head that spoke the dark words take reign.  Josh was notified after the first day; Tyler’s roommates gave him twenty-four hours to pull himself out of that funk before they started to call in help.  But it wasn’t the flu or a stomach bug that made Tyler unable to leave his bed, and Josh was the first one Mark called.

Even though Josh never dealt with Tyler in this state before—another seeming coincidence that Josh’s near-constant presence came with longer and longer periods of Tyler being… well… happier.  Maybe it was the fact together they had music, goals, and a purpose, but numerous people whispered to Josh in secret that he just made Tyler… _better_ more than anyone else had.

Josh knocked on Tyler’s bedroom door and received a faint answer.  All the shades were closed once Josh walked into the room, and Tyler was huddled under a mass of blankets on the floor.

“Dude, what are you doing down there?” Josh tried to sound soft, nonthreatening.

Tyler gave a muffled grunt that seemed to say ‘stop trying to make me feel better’.  It was meant to be hostile, but just came out sounding weak and tired.  Tyler had told Josh about his edges, how he would drive people away.  He picked at his shoelaces while telling him about these episodes, curling in on himself, and in that moment Josh vowed to not let Tyler impede help.

Josh plopped down next to him, trying to find the right words and scared he couldn’t do this.  Silence last for a few horrible minutes, while Josh bit his lip thinking hard, Tyler still motionless.

“Hey, so…um, what’s going on?” Josh kept his hands to himself, playing with frayed threads from the holes in his jeans.

“Everything,” Tyler sighed; he always had the flair for the dramatic, “I’m trying to do stuff and it’s all not working right.  My head is fuzzy.  My fingers keep screwing stuff up.  _I’m_ screwing everything up.”

Ah, yeah.  Working on new music.  Last time Tyler had talked to Josh about it, he was excited.  He’d been saying he was amped to have Josh hear the songs, getting ready to record some demos.  Writing usually made things better, but now he was in a low—no wonder he was beating himself up over it.

“You’re hard on yourself, man,” Josh replied, “I’m sure they’re gr—”

“You can’t just say that!” Tyler sounded somewhat hysterical, the blankets rising and falling as he heaved in several deep breaths.  Josh waited.  “I keep having this dream…when I close my eyes I see all those faces in the crowd looking up at us and singing along.  And then I turn to you to say ‘hey, we did it.  All those people are here for us’ and then I look back and everyone is gone.  The place is silent.  They left.  Even you.  Josh, I’m scared.  It’s going too well right now, and I’m going to screw it all up.”

Josh placed his hand on the lump that was Tyler, feeling out what was likely a shoulder and hopefully not a butt, because that would just be awkward in this situation. 

“I…I can’t promise everything is going to stay perfect.  But…” Josh had felt this fear too, was torn between anxiety of playing in front of ever-expanding crowds to the pain of the old days where they played to no one.  But there’d been something that had driven them even in the worst of the van days.

“I believe in us.  I believe in our music, our show, and most of all what you’re saying out there.  And the whole crowd wouldn’t leave in the middle of a show, man,” Josh tried to laugh, to lighten the mood, “But regardless…I’m still be there.  I’ll always be there, and you can just, like, sing to me.”

While Josh spoke, Tyler’s head peaked out from beneath the mass of blankets.  He looked like a wreck; hair askew, bags under his eyes, but there was a little glimmer in his eyes of hope and adoration. 

“How’d I get so lucky as to find you?” Tyler asked, sitting up with a comforter still wrapped tight around him.

Josh shrugged, “I ask myself the same thing.  So, do you, uh, wanna get something to eat?” 

Tyler nodded, “I want tacos, but I don’t really wanna leave the house, yet.”

“Alright, fine.  I’ll go out and get them, but you gotta shower, dude,” Josh ruffled Tyler’s greasy hair, and Tyler gave his first true grin all week.

  1. **Contagious**



Tyler refused to cancel shows, and Josh was convinced he’d go out to play even with half a leg missing.  Not like he was any better—that’s one reason why they got along together so well; they’d drag themselves out on stage no matter how crappy they felt. 

So, they both were sick the first time they had to cancel a show, but Josh brushed his own illness off as inconsequential since Tyler was voiceless and weak.  It hit them both quick; a flu that took out most of the crew as well.  Their bus was like something out of a plague movie—coughing and sneezing, groans of distress, and the humid, stale atmosphere of a space full of illness and bacteria.

They were all gross and feverish.  Josh’s whole body ached and he woke up that first night with terrible chills.  He shook the head congestion off though with the morning’s realization that Tyler was practically incapacitated.  The singer was clammy and mumbling about a terrible headache, and a cough that crackled through his lungs. Everyone was hyper-focused on him, despite their own illness, since Tyler was essentially the moneymaker.

Josh insisted he felt fine, and if anything, he did, since taking care of Tyler required his complete attention.  Forcing chicken soup and what felt like gallons of water down his sore throat, pressing cool compresses to his forehead, even handling Tyler’s tissues—he didn’t care.  His best friend was sick and thousands of miles away from home, so it was his duty to help him.

It was right around the time when the openers would be taking to the stage when Tyler broke down.  There was a subtle change in his sniffling from what it had been like all day.  His breath was wheezy as he whispered and sobbed.

Josh couldn’t comprehend what Tyler was saying, but he understood what he was feeling—the crushing weight of disappointing so many people.  It was a different kind of failure than getting on stage and messing up a song, or putting out an album that everyone hates.  This was their bodies unable to handle the pressure of touring.  This was a letdown of the most basic level of existence—health.

And while rationality would say that ‘everyone gets sick.  It’s a fact of life and not a failure, in the moment, it felt like it would last forever.  There was no way they’d ever get better and get back on stage.  Tyler was undoubtedly panicking that his voice would never come back.  And it was terrifying, because what he sings, what he has to say, is all that he has.

Josh ran a hand down Tyler’s hot, sweaty face, murmuring words of encouragement and support.  Tyler was in his bunk, bundled tightly, and yet he lifted his hands from the blankets and reached towards his best friend.  Josh could read his lips; ‘I’m scared’ was the closest approximation and that’s all Josh needed to climb in next to him.

Tyler clung to him like a koala as Josh wrapped his arms around.  Josh stroked the back of his head, where new, tiny hair was growing in and felt like velvet on his fingertips.  Tyler sighed as the pain in his head eased, and finally slipped into deep sleep where the burn in his throat and aches in his bones couldn’t touch him. 

He woke a few hours later, and was able to croak out, “Josh?” before he was crying again.  The drummer woke instantly; they were still pressed together and entangled, but the bunk was humid and sweaty with their combined fever-raised heat. 

“Let’s go to the back lounge, okay?” Josh had to practically carry Tyler still wrapped in blankets to where the couches reclined to form a bed.  The air was fresher, but tears continued to slip down Tyler’s face.

“I wish I was home,” Tyler said, and blew his nose.

“Me too,” Josh doesn’t sing.  Doesn’t do lullabies, so he just held Tyler as tightly as he could and pressed a kiss to his chapped lips.  They were so far away from Columbus, from their families, but at least they had each other.  And maybe that would be enough.

  1. **Frustration**



Something changed between them after that day where they held each other through matching fevers and homesickness.  They had always touched a lot, but now they would linger and hold.  They shared kisses now—from quick pecks over breakfast, to nervous, ‘good luck’ smooches, to adrenaline-fueled make-out sessions against backstage walls.  They didn’t talk about it—just would press their mouths together whenever the passion overtook them. 

But Tyler was finding this to be causing more problems than expected.  Namely, he was in constantly turned on, almost always half hard, and it was all Josh’s fault.  The drummer was just too…hot.  Tyler was only now realizing how truly he was attracted to him. 

Josh wasn’t an asshole, but it was hard to not be bothered by the chronic blue balls.  He would leave Tyler aching whenever he’d brush up against him for a few stolen minutes before getting pulled away by a crew member or some other obligation.

Tyler was finally lowering himself to jerking off in his bunk; something he refused to do unless very desperate.  He couldn’t remember ever feeling this need to get laid so intensely, but he had no idea how to broach this with Josh.  They had no defined rules or limits, and he didn’t want to ruin anything between them and destroy their friendship.  He’d get a headache to match the pain in his groin whenever he worried too much about this.

He was very preoccupied after a long drive where Josh had ‘jokingly’ sat on his lap for way too long in front of _everyone_.  The bus stopped at a gas station to refuel, and the passengers hopped off to get food from the convenience store.  Tyler was so distracted he didn’t even notice Josh following him into to the private bathroom until he turned to lock the door and found the drummer already clicking the lock. 

“Hey,” Josh moved into his space and Tyler backed up to the wall.  He’d been planning on jerking off quickly, and maybe take a selfie or two for the aesthetic.  He had never seen that mischievous glint in Josh’s eyes before.

“Uh, what’s up,” Tyler faked an air of ease, in the face of the unknown.  Maybe Josh was just going to kiss him?  He wouldn’t mind, but with a lock on the door behind him he hoped there would be enough time to grind all the way to completion even if it did end up in his pants.

The answer came in the form of Josh sliding to his knees on the tiled floor.  Tyler’s brain worked in slo-mo considering the germs that were probably down there, while Josh played with the button on Tyler’s jeans.

“Felt a bit of a problem when I was in your lap earlier,” Josh’s lip was caught briefly but his perfectly white teeth and Tyler felt a buzzing his ears, “Wanna help you out.”

He palmed Tyler’s growing erection and smiled up at him, and Tyler unstuck his tongue, “Yes.  Please.”

In a flash, Josh had unzipped his pants and drew his dick out of his straining boxers.  A few strokes and Josh’s tongue flicked out to tease the head and Tyler’s hands scrabbled at the tiles on the wall.  He breathed Josh’s name as a cue to engulf him all the way down.  If it wasn’t for Josh encircling the base of his cock with a tight grip, he would’ve already come down Josh’s throat. 

Tyler breathed heavily through his nose as Josh started a steady rhythm of mouth and hand.  It had been so long since someone else had done this for him.  He had his hand between his teeth to muffle the moans of utter pleasure, and Josh’s eyes kept meeting his—they seemed to pull him closer and closure to climaxing.

Josh grabbed one of his hands and guided it to his dye-killed hair.  Tyler didn’t push his head down, just rode while he bobbed and sucked.

Tyler knew he was close…needed to be close since they didn’t know how long they’d been in that bathroom.  Certainly people would be looking for them. 

“Josh—ugh, I’m—I’m gonna come,” Tyler moaned, and Josh just took him in further all while reaching out to stroke his balls.

That’s all it took for Tyler to come with a muffled yelp as stars burst behind his eyelids.  Josh only seemed to struggle slightly as he swallowed, but he stood and licked his lips as he kissed Tyler. 

“That was…wow, Josh…”

“No problem, dude,” he smirked and backed away, “Gonna get myself a coffee…maybe we should leave at different times.”  Josh winked and left Tyler still breathless with his dick hanging out almost comically.

God, he loved Josh.

  1. **Repayment**



Josh didn’t expect anything on this day of all days.  It was that period of December where all anyone cared about was the upcoming holiday.  Everyone was busy preparing for Christmas—there wasn’t anything to look forward to.  So, when Tyler woke him up with blasting ‘Jingle Bell Rock’ on the 18th, Josh floundered in the bedsheets.

“What the…?” Josh exclaimed and Tyler turned the music off quickly.

He whipped out a ukulele, and began to sing “Happy…to…Happy…to…happy…Jo-oosh…Happy…To!”

“Um…seriously, what?”

“It’s your half birthday so you get half the song!” Tyler gently placed the ukulele on a chair and then straddled Josh’s hips while producing a cupcake from somewhere. 

“Wait, really?”

“Mhm,” Tyler dangled the cupcake by his mouth, “Eat it!”

Josh took a quick bite, icing smearing all over his nose and lips, which Tyler licked away.

They got briefly distracted; this new level of their relationship was so fresh and exciting.  They were entangled in each other, in every sense of the phrase.  They could’ve spent the day in bed, but Tyler had plans.

They went to some sort of Winter Wonderland fair where the cold air whipped their cheeks as they rode a small rollercoaster.  Red noses as they tried to warm behind coffee and cocoa, and then dashed off to ice skate.

The day flew by with a flurry of photos and quick kisses and laughter, interposed with some actually snow flurries. 

“Thank you for today,” Josh squeezed Tyler’s hand as they walked back to the car. 

“No,” Tyler turned and faced him under a streetlamp, “No, thank you for everything.  You’re just…you’re amazing, Josh.  You’ve been there for me through so much, and you’re…you’re my…my rock.  I love you.”

Josh’s breath caught.  They had said those last three words to each other many times before, but never…never since getting together.

Without another thought, he immediately replied “I love you, too.”

Tyler’s smile could’ve lit up the street, and they didn’t have to say anything more—all that mattered was between the two of them.

**Author's Note:**

> y'all been sleeping on the fact that it's Josh's half birthday. Let's celebrate, yo!
> 
> teeentyonepilots on tumblr


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